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Sam Wilson was sick. Mostly of life, but other than that, of watching the public traumatise kids that don’t deserve it. That's how he felt right now, staring at his phone.
‘SPIDER-MAN? MORE LIKE SPIDER MENACE!’
Peter Parker was everywhere. Peter Parker was the most famous person in the world, and this was not good.
Sam remembers him. He remembers the kid who single handedly took down both him and Bucky in Berlin. The talkative, cheery, bright kid. He also remembers the kid on the battlefield. He fought, and he fought well.
He remembers the kid that had to be pulled away by Pepper Potts, the kid that watched his mentor die. He didn’t know how close they were at the time. He remembers the kid at the funeral. The one who was silent. The one whose eyes held a weight that his age didn’t.
He wasn’t sure what happened to him after that. And as bitter as he was about Berlin, the spiderling was a kid. A sixteen year old high schooler.
Had anyone even reached out to him?
He hoped Pepper Potts had. Maybe Happy Hogan. But now he had that guilt, on his conscience, even as he dials the number of his friend, hoping he’ll pick up. He rarely did, but Sam needed to talk to him.
Sam let out a breath when he heard the voice on the other end. “Bucky.”
{ I’m trying to get over this }
The plan was simple. Find the kid, make a quiet entry, make sure he’s alright, and perhaps an extraction if needed. Bucky figures they can get him out of New York in under two hours if need be, maybe relocate in someplace quiet. Somewhere safe. Sam doesn’t argue. In fact, he hasn’t said much at all, which is very unlike his big mouth.
They were discussing when it happened.
It wasn’t there but it wasn’t nothing. Bucky's head ached.
His eyes drifted to the table. There’s a map. A location circled in red. And a name. It was smudged, unnoticeable, almost as if it had never been there.
Bucky stares at the map as if it had been a dream he just woke up from. He’s leaning over the table, focused —
Sam blinks. “Is this some half-baked road trip you came up with?”
Bucky scowls. “If it were mine it wouldn’t involve Queens”
“Okay, jokes aside, what is that?” Sam points to the map.
Bucky frowns. What is it?
“I can’t remember”